Into Darkness
by Roslin Fan
Summary: Laura gets a headache. Billy and Commander Adama act accordingly...


The darkness hit him first. Then the quiet. Colonial One had been neither dark nor quiet before.

He'd come unannounced. Angry over something, which faded as soon as he stepped into her darkened office. It wasn't important, whatever it was; they could talk about it later.

Where was _everyone_?

He moved past her desk. She wasn't sitting there, wherever she was.

There was only one option left.

He moved to the curtain dividing her private quarters from her office. Such a flimsy demarcation. It wouldn't take much to disregard it-move it aside. Like he was about to do.

He'd risk her anger. Just as long as she was okay.

.

.

.

The anger hit her first. The frustration. She could only push it away for so long-her time was up.

As powerful as it was, she had no idea of its specific origin. Perhaps she was asking the wrong question. _What didn't make her angry_? was better. More accurate.

When it hit, it hit hard. Attacking the place she could least afford it-her head. How was she supposed to work then?

The pain created more anger, which manifested into more pain. It was a vicious cycle of anger and pain.

She tried to work through it but failed.

What would Commander Adama think of the President of the Twelve Colonies brought down by a headache? In truth, she was too angry to care.

.

.

.

Billy found her first. He'd just returned from an errand onboard Cloud Nine and was going to report to her. All his concerns about the growing unrest disappeared when he saw her.

Her head was down on the desk, cradled in her arms. She was moaning or crying(?). Perhaps both.

They'd deal with the fleet later.

He approached the desk slowly. They were still getting used to each other, but he'd never seen her like this before. "Madame President?"

He got as close as he could without touching her. She might not welcome his touch.

"Billy," she said without lifting her head. "I don't seem to be able to work right now. Would you-"

"Of course."

He figured she was too tired to care he cut her off. The President slowly lifted her head, and Billy helped her out of the chair. Half leading half carrying her to her quarters.

He helped her into her cot. "The lights," she said.

"I'll take care of them, Madame President. Try to rest, I'll be right back."

"You're not gonna put it on the wireless again, are you?"

He shook his head. Her strength was a marvel. "I won't tell a soul."

"Good," she said, before closing her eyes.

He left her quarters. It was time to close the office for awhile. The fleet's problems could wait.

.

.

.

Bill moved the curtain aside and walked through.

In the darkness he could make out the figure of the President in her cot. Billy was sitting by her side, holding her hand.

The President made no move to greet or acknowledge Bill. That frightened him. He moved closer to the cot.

Billy turned to look at him. "She has a headache, Commander." He sighed. "A bad one."

Bill nodded. "That's why the lights are off."

"Yes, sir. I wanted to make her comfortable."

"You did a great job, son. Why don't you get some rest, and I'll look after her."

Bill noticed the aide hesitate. "You won't bring up fleet business, will you? That can wait."

Bill smiled at him. "I promise I won't talk shop. I probably won't talk at all."

Billy nodded, satisfied it seemed. "I'll be nearby, if you need me."

Then he left the quarters. Bill sat in the abandoned chair, taking her hand in his. He'd keep his word to Billy and stay quiet. He needed her healthy so they could spar later.

.

.

.

Her first thought was of the pain's absence-in her head, at least. The dull ache in her chest remained, beginning its assault on the rest of her body, but it was leaving her head alone, and for that she was grateful.

The anger was gone too. She just needed some sleep. Laura shook her head, remembering her father calling her a grumpy bear when she was a child. She'd sacrifice sleep so she wouldn't miss anything, and then she'd be a grump the next day. Her life had changed so much overnight, but that one fact hadn't. The President of the Twelve Colonies was a bear when she didn't sleep enough.

She felt a hand holding hers. It was stronger and firmer than the one she'd fallen asleep holding. She opened her eyes. Even in the darkness, she could make out the figure. She was holding Commander Adama's hand.

.

.

.

"Good morning," he said, in that rumbly voice of his-even if he did say it quietly.

"Commander Adama, I wasn't aware we had a meeting this morning."

He smiled like he expected that response. "I didn't exactly expect this either."

She nodded. "Why are you here?"

She looked down at their still joined hands. He didn't seem like he was in a hurry to let go. She wasn't sure of the appropriate thing in this instance. If she let go would he think she didn't want him to touch her? Would she offend him? She had enough to worry about without needing to consider the emotions of the volatile Commander Adama. Plus, the hand he was holding was the warmest part of her body, and she needed that warmth.

He looked down, meeting her eyes. "I'm here for you, Madame President."

.

.

.

He didn't sleep at all. He was watching her fight something he was powerless to defend her from. It wasn't a good feeling. He held her hand and hoped the rest would help.

He knew she was waking up long before she opened her eyes. He heard the difference in her breathing.

Then she opened her eyes. He was never so happy to see anything in his life. The shade of green was beautiful when she was unguarded.

From her expression, he knew she wouldn't be unguarded long. He smiled, hoping to convey friendship. "Good morning," he said.

Then he waited for his sparring partner.

.

.

.

He was there for her-whatever that meant. What did he know? Did Billy tell him anything?

"Thank you, Commander." She smiled. Maybe if she smiled brightly enough, he'd think she was fine. "I'm sure you're needed on Galactica."

He held her hand tighter. "It's okay, you don't have to hide it."

She groaned, inwardly. He did know. "Hide what?" she asked.

"Your migraines." He smiled. "I knew it wasn't allergies."

She thanked the gods she wasn't sure were there and smiled. "Yes, Commander. I get migraines occasionally." She sighed. "I didn't want you to think I was weak."

"Never."

"Good. I'll require regular appointments with Dr. Cottle, though."

"Anything you need."

"Thank you, Commander." She let go of his hand. "Now, you should return to Galactica."

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

She watched him leave her quarters. _Migraines_. She wished. She shook her head. Time to get back to work, while she still could.


End file.
